


Tell Me 'Bout the Good Ol' Days

by TeddysHoney



Category: Glee
Genre: Dalton Academy, M/M, One Three Hill, Pamela Lansbury, Rockstar!Kurt, YouTube, mentions of mild violence, parents!klaine, rockstar!Blaine, rockstar!Elliott, rockstar!Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddysHoney/pseuds/TeddysHoney
Summary: Lizzie's been assigned a school project that she absolutely does NOT want to do. However, Blaine shows her a private YouTube video that makes her rethink her position on her assignment as well as her parents' cool factor.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Elliott "Starchild" Gilbert/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26
Collections: Glee Fanfiction Friday 2020





	Tell Me 'Bout the Good Ol' Days

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is borrowed from The Judd's song Grandpa (Tell Me 'Bout the Good Ol' Day). It's an old country song, so if that's not your thing, I'm sorry. Thankfully, there's not much of the song included in the story. If you'd like, though, you can check it out on YouTube.

When Blaine unlocked the door to the Anderson-Hummel apartment, he could hear the faint sounds of music coming from inside.  _ Hmm… _ he thought to himself as he walked inside.  _ I wonder what Kurt could be listening to.  _ Kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket, he padded down the hallway, ready to change out of his work clothes into something comfier, something that would let him know that it was  _ definitely the weekend. _ As he got closer to their daughter’s bedroom, however, he could hear the music better. It was definitely coming from her room and definitely a song Kurt would  _ not  _ enjoy. 

Instead of going on to his own bedroom, Blaine took a detour, pushing open Lizzie’s door. He was immediately blasted in the face with music.

_ “ _ _ Did lovers really fall in love to stay _

_ And stand beside each other, come what may? _

_ Was a promise really something people kept _

_ Not just something they would say and then forget _

_ Did families really bow their heads to pray _

_ Did daddies really never go away? _

_ Oh, Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days” _

Lizzie was standing on her bet, her feet spread wide apart, singing into her hairbrush at the top of her lungs. When she caught sight of Blaine, she scrambled off the bed, coming to kneel in front of him as she sang the last line of the song:

_ “Oh, Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days” _

Blaine waited until the music had died away to say, “Well, I am definitely not your Grandpa.”

Lizzie couldn’t hold back her laughter at that. “I know that, Daddy!” she crowed, bounding back over to her dresser to put her hairbrush away. “It’s just a song that Granda Burt showed me the last time we went back to Ohio.”

_ That explains a lot, _ Blaine thought to himself. “I take it your Papa’s not home,” he said instead. “I don’t think he’d let you listen to country music if he was here. At least not that loudly.”

“Nope,” the 10-year-old replied, popping the “P” loudly. “He went to the store for some stuff for dinner.”

“I see,” Blaine answered. Reaching into his pocket, he saw that he had a message from Kurt.

“I’m leaving Lizzie at home alone for a few minutes,” it said. “I know you’ll be here in five. I just missed you.” 

When Blaine checked the time, he realized that he’d gotten that message less than 10 minutes before. Their daughter hadn’t been home alone long. Satisfied, Blaine turned around to go back to his bedroom. “I need to change out of my work clothes,” he explained. “You might not want to follow me.”

But Lizzie didn’t seem to mind. She trailed Blaine into their bedroom, settling down on the foot of the bed while he went to the closet to dig for some clothes. Seeing that she wasn’t going to leave, he asked, “So, what made you decide to play a song by The Judds?”

Lizzie sighed. “My teacher assigned us a really dumb assignment for social studies. We have to write about two love stories that happened in the past to someone we know or someone in our family tree. That made me think about Grandpa Burt, so...” She huffed. “I don’t wanna do it, Daddy! It’s boring and dumb! Who cares how somebody else fell in love anyway? All that kissing and stuff is just kinda weird and icky.”

“Kissing is not weird and icky,” Blaine said, coming out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. “I kiss your Papa all the time; I think it’s sweet.”

“That’s cuz you’re married, Daddy! Old married people have to think kissin’ their person is sweet.”

“Well, excuse you, missy,” Blaine retorted, a good-natured smile on his face. “I don’t know who you’re calling old, but it’s certainly not your Papa and me. We are the youngest and hippest people you know.”

His daughter outright snorted at that. “Good try, Daddy,” she said, patting him on the arm as he walked past her, headed for the kitchen. “You and Papa are cool, but you’re definitely not young or hip.”

“Rude!” Blaine called over his shoulder. When Lizzie didn’t reply, simply giggling and following him down the hallway, he said, “Come into the living room with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

“Is it young and hip?” she sassed, a wide grin on her face.

“Oh, just come see,” Blaine answered, sitting down on the couch and grabbing the TV remote. He clicked it on, navigating to the YouTube app. When he logged out of Lizzie’s channel and into his own, the little girl pouted.

“Now, I’m gonna have to switch it back when I wanna watch Miranda Sings!”

“Oh, quit whining,” Blaine replied, not even looking at her. “I’m trying to help make your homework a little bit more fun by showing you something you’ve never seen.”

“Not whining,” Lizzie protested.

Blaine didn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he concentrated on navigating to his YouTube page and finding a video under his “private” playlist. When he’d finally located the one he wanted, he clicked on it, hitting pause before the picture could even come up. “Lizzie,” he said, turning to face her, “I want you to watch this video. It will give you all the information you need to do your assignment. It’s only 20 minutes, so you’ll be done with homework well before dinner time, and you can jump on your bed and listen to music all you want.”

“Daddy, I don’t jump on my bed!”

Blaine just winked at her.

“Hmph,” she grumped, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s this video even ‘bout?” she asked. “Is it gonna be boring?”

“Nope. Just watch grumpy pants.” He clicked play on the remote, going into the kitchen to find himself a snack. If Kurt was at the store, he was probably planning a fancy dinner, and he wanted to munch on something, just in case the food took forever to make.

“Not grumpy!” Lizzie called over her shoulder, her eyes trained on the TV. The black screen faded into a picture of a woman sitting in a chair alone on a stage, a microphone in her hand. To her left, there were four empty chairs waiting to be filled. As the camera zoomed in, a banner behind dropped down. It depicted a grouping of small hills inside a circle. The numbers 1 and 3 stood on top of the hill, and the word Hill was at the bottom.

“Daddy?” Lizzie said loudly, “What’s 13 Hill?”

“Just watch the video, Liz.”

“Hmph!” She turned back to the video just as the woman with the microphone began to speak.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to this special episode of Music Town Hall. Tonight, we’ll be speaking to the members of the new, up-and-coming band One Three Hill!” She waited for the applause and whistling to die down before she went on. “There will be a brief Q&A led by me, your host, Santana Lopez. Then, we’ll open it up for members of the audience to ask the band questions.” There was more cheering after that. “So, let’s meet the members of the band! Joining us tonight is Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel, Mr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel, Mr. Elliott Gilbert-Smythe, and Mr. Sebastian Gilbert-Smythe!”

As she said each of their names, the men appeared on stage, smiling and waving to the cheering crowd as they took their seats. The woman, Santana Lopez, smiled at them, waiting for everything to be quiet again.

Lizzie, for her part, glanced over the back of the couch at Blaine, her eyes wide. “You and Papa and Uncle Elliot and Uncle Sebastian were in a BAND?”

Blaine grinned. “Told you you’d like it! Now, turn around and watch. It’s getting good!” he told her, his eyes sparkling. He moved so he could see the TV better as his daughter turned around, her eyes glued to the screen.

***

“Those names are quite the mouthful, gentlemen,” Santana said, grinning at them. “And, that’s actually where I’d like to start tonight. It’s very unusual to have a band composed of two married couples. Tell us how that started.”

Kurt spoke up first. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story actually,” he said, smiling at his bandmates. “When I first met the three of these guys, they were members of my rival school choir. My school actually hated their guts.”

“Really?” Santana asked. “That’s an unusual start! Tell us more!”

The audience cheered, and Kurt looked at Blaine. “Do you wanna start?” he asked.

“Might as well,” Blaine answered. “So...this guy actually came to spy on us…”

***

Kurt peeked around a wall, looking into a long hallway at Dalton Academy, hoping he wasn’t going to get caught spying. The last thing he wanted was the dirty Dalton Academy Warblers finding him and doing something terrible to him before sending him back to McKinley to prove their dominance. The problem was, though, that he couldn’t find The Warbler’s practice room. How was he supposed to do a good spying job for his Glee Club if he couldn’t even find where the group was practicing?

“Caught you!” a loud voice said from behind him.

Startled, Kurt whirled around, coming face to face with three handsome boys in Dalton Academy uniforms, a beautiful Warbler pin stuck in each of their lapels. He swallowed hard. Something horrible was going to happen; he just knew it.

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked. “Spying for the McKinley losers?”

“You’re the losers,” Kurt scoffed instead of responding.

“What should we do with him,” another one asked, jostling the shortest boy of the three a little. “Should we give him a swirly? Wet Willie? Crack eggs on his head? Would be a shame to ruin that cute little blazer he’s wearing.”

It was then that Kurt realized the shorter one was staring at him with a funny expression on his face.  _ Do I have something on my face? Does my hair look weird? Did I spill something on my outfit? Why is he staring at me like this? _

“Blaine?” the one that had jostled him asked again. “You okay…?”

The shorter one, Blaine apparently, shook his head as if clearing out the cobwebs. “Um, yeah. We’re, uh, we’re not going to do anything to him.”

“Ugh! What’s the fun in that?” the other one, tall with dark, coiffed hair asked, huffing. “He’s a spy, Blaine! We’re supposed--”

“Shut up, Sebastian,” the other one said. “If Blaine says we’re not doing it, then we’re not. Just drop it.”

“Thank you, Elliott,” Blaine answered. “Now, are you really here to spy?”

“No. Not really.” The words were out of Kurt’s mouth before he really realized it, and he didn’t know what to say, looking at the three boys in front of him with an open mouth. He had been sent there to spy, but that wasn’t really the only reason.

“Well?”

“Um...I was...I was…”  _ Think, Hummel! Think! Don’t tell them that the bullying is getting bad and you really want to get the hell out of McKinley.  _ “I might want to go here.”  _ Way to go, Kurt! Nice cover! _

“Really?” Elliott asked. “Why?”

“McKinley’s not that great,” Kurt answered truthfully. He’d already blurted out his personal business. There was no need to lie now. “There’s a lot of...bullying.”

“Well, that sucks,” Elliott replied.

“Dalton’s great to get away from bullying,” Blaine said quickly. “I transferred here from my old school where I was beaten within an inch of my life at a school dance.” He paused, glancing at his two friends. “I haven’t had any issues like that here, and I’ve got super good friends.”

“That sounds really nice,” Kurt replied softly.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then, Sebastian said, “Lima Bean.”

“What?” Blaine looked at him like he’d grown two heads.

“Lima Bean. We should take Kurt to the Lima Bean so we can talk. He definitely needs it.” Sebastian looked him up and down with a look on his face that made Kurt’s lip curl up in a snarl.

“I look fabulous! Thank you very much!” he retorted.

Elliott shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Ignore him. Seb lived in France for a while, and he has absolutely no manners. We’re still trying to break him of that.” He laughed when Seb stuck his tongue out at him. “I think the Lima Bean sounds like a good idea. Blaine?”

“Yep! Let’s go,” Blaine agreed, reaching out and taking Kurt’s hand in his before practically dragging him down the hallway.

Kurt couldn’t ignore the  _ zing _ that ran through him at the other boy’s touch, and he swallowed hard. “Are, um, are you guys all gay?” he asked softly as they walked.

“Yes,” they all answered.

Smiling softly to himself, Kurt thought,  _ Maybe Dalton would be a perfect place to go to school… _

***

“So,” Blaine concluded, “when we finally got him to attend Dalton, things progressed pretty quickly after that.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed. “We were a rockstar team, the top four performers for The Warblers, and practically celebrities.”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Not exactly. We were good; we won awards, but ‘celebrities’ isn’t really how I’d describe it.”

“We were!” Seb pouted. 

“No.”

Santana chuckled. “So, you were fast friends once Kurt moved?”

“Yep,” Kurt agreed. “We hung out all the time, and we actually formed a cover band while we were still at Dalton. We called ourselves Pamela Lansbury. That’s when our relationships really formed.”

***

“Guys? Guys, are you ready to practice?” Kurt called, rushing into the room they were using at Dalton to practice. “Guys? I really wanna work on  _ Into the Groove _ today.” He stopped when a noise caught his attention. It sounded like it was coming from the...closet? “Guys?” he called again, stepping closer to the closet, the one they’d been told was used for storage of old costumes and other apparel from the original Warbler days. When he heard the noise again, he grabbed the door handle and turned, pulling it open. 

There, hunkered down in the closet, hands up each other’s shirts were Elliott and Sebastian. When the light hit them, they both turned to look at Kurt at the same time, their lips kiss-swollen and red. 

“You--you guys are--?” Kurt asked.

Both of them nodded. 

“How-how long?”

“Like, a few hours officially,” Seb replied. “Unofficially, um, we’ve been friends with benefits for--”

“Ew! No! I don’t want to hear about it, okay? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with the two of you… doing… that. It’s just, you’re my friends! And, you’re--I mean. You’re--”

“Yeah. We are. And, would you mind shutting the door again?” Seb asked. “I’d like to get my happy ending if you know what I mean.”

At that, Elliot punched him in the arm. “That’s it. I’m done.” He made a move to get up, Seb grabbing at him all the way.

“Babe, wait! Please! I’m sorry, I--”

Kurt didn’t stick around to hear the end of it, slamming the door shut on the two of them arguing. He began pacing, his hands in his hair, muttering to himself. “What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do? What if they break up? What if they hate each other? What about the band? What will we do without them?”

That’s how Blaine found him, pacing up and down in their practice room, hands scrunching up his hair and muttering to himself. "Kurt?" he asked, rushing over immediately. "Is everything okay?"

"They-- They're--" he stuttered, pointing toward the closet where some muffled moans and gasping could be heard. 

"Who? What? What's happening?" When Kurt didn't answer right away, Blaine made a beeline for the closet door. 

"Wait!!! No! Don't!" Kurt hollered. "Seb and Elliott!"

Blaine paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Seb and Elliott what?"

"They're… Screwing!" Kurt said, his voice more like a stage whisper. "In there!"

Immediately, Blaine let go of the doorknob and backed away like he'd been stung. A look of absolute disgust clouded his face. "Ew!" he screeched. "Why are they doing  _ that  _ in  _ there _ ?"

"I don't know! They were only making out when I found them, but Seb said he wanted a… happy ending!" Kurt's face was pale, and he looked like he might faint. 

Blaine didn't look much better. "Wait. How long have they--" he began but was cut off by more of Kurt's wailing. 

"What happens if they break up, Blaine? What becomes of Pamela Lansbury? What becomes of our power quartet? Whose side do we pick? How--?" He didn't get to finish his questions, however, because at that moment, Blaine surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

His hands came up, framing Kurt's face and his fingertips rubbed gently against the soft, tiny hairs at the base of Kurt's neck. Blaine had wanted to do that for a while now, kiss Kurt silly. He'd never had the guts to before, but now that Seb and Elliott were fooling around…

When they pulled apart, the look of pure confusion mixed with the hooded, star-dazzled eyes of pure heaven on Kurt’s face made Blaine grin. "You were saying something?" he asked quietly. 

"I just wondered what we do if Seb and Elliott broke up, but that doesn't seem important now."

Blaine nodded. “Was that okay? What I did, I mean? I-I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, but…”

Turning and pressing in closer to Blaine, Kurt replied breathlessly, “It was perfect.” Then, he pressed his lips to Blaine’s in a kiss of his own.

That’s how Seb and Elliott found them when they emerged from the closet a few moments later, pressed against each other, lips and tongues moving, exploring.

Now, it was Seb’s turn to freak out. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed, turning to look at Elliott. “And, Kurt was pissed at us for doing that! What the hell? If they’re gonna be...friends...like that, they should at least have the courtesy to tell us! I mean-”

“We kinda did the same thing to them,” Elliott pointed out.

“Now is  _ not  _ the time for your level-headed everything-is-fine nonsense!” Seb spat. “It’s time to freak out! Get mad!”

“No.”

The loud exclamations beside them alerted Kurt and Blaine to the other band members’ presence, and they reluctantly pulled apart, Blaine chasing after Kurt’s mouth as it left him.

“And, how long have you two--?” Seb asked, hands on his hips.

“Like five minutes,” Kurt answered, a sweet smile on his face. “It surprised us.”

“So, I guess we’re couples now. As well as a band,” Elliott pointed out.

“I guess we are…” Blaine replied, looking at his new boyfriend.

***

Santana chuckled as they wrapped up that segment of their story. “The irony of the closet isn’t lost on me,” she declared. “But now, I’m curious. Tell me more about this Pamela Lansbury group. I didn’t know you guys were together before One Three Hill.”

“Well, Pamela Lansbury didn’t last as long as we’d hoped,” Kurt declared, giggling as he leaned over to make eye contact with the other three men on the stage. “We became small town famous, doing little gigs at local bars and stuff. And, uh, we kept our relationships and our sexuality private for quite some time.”

“We had girls all over us at our concerts,” Elliott chimed in. “I guess the guyliner and skin-tight leather were turn-ons instead of turn-offs for them. So, one night after a sold-out gig, we decided we should tell people the truth about us.”

“We didn’t really think it would be a big deal,” Seb surmised. “But boy were we wrong…”

***

Standing on the stage in the small bar, the members of Pamela Lansbury waited with huge grins on their faces for the crowd’s cheering to die down before they made their announcement and played their final song. Finally, the noise died down to a manageable level, and Blaine leaned in, beginning to speak.

“Thanks for the support, guys,” he said, pointing at the crowd. “We’ve got one more song to play for you, but before we do, we’d like to let you guys in on something. We hope you’ll be just as supportive of that as you are of our music.” He looked at the other guys on the stage, hoping someone else would jump in. Thankfully, Seb saved him.

“So, a lot of you have probably been wondering about our relationship status…” he said deep in his throat, smiling wide when the crowd roared again. “Well, I hate to break it to you all, but we’re taken. All of us.” That got the crowd booing this time. Assuming it was good-natured, Seb pushed ahead. “In fact, you all know each one of our partners. As for me,” he said, turning his gaze on Elliott, “this guy has stolen my heart.” He moved away from his microphone to rub himself up against his boyfriend for a moment.

“And,” Kurt said, leaning forward to speak as he held out a hand toward Blaine, “this guy’s mine.” He smiled at Blaine, doing his best to ignore the crowd which was growing steadily louder, still booing.

“Oh, come on, guys,” Elliott said, leaning in to speak even as he batted Seb away and back to his own mic. “We know this isn’t what you wanted, but we’d really like your support in all this. We’re happy. Isn’t that what’s important?”

The booing continued.

“You, um, you guys want to hear our last song?” Blaine asked.

The booing continued, unabated. 

“Okay. Well, this is Pamela Lansbury, signing off. Have a great night, Westerville,” Blaine said. Then, he and the rest of the band hurried off the stage, the crowd still loudly booing behind them.

“That was weird,” Seb stated when they were backstage, away from their upset audience.

“Not at all how I thought that was going to go,” Kurt agreed. “I mean, I knew they might not love it, but I didn’t think they’d boo us off the stage.”

“Yeah,” Elliott agreed. “I guess this was a bad idea.”

“No. I’m glad we did it,” Blaine cut in, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “We’ve got to be true to ourselves, even if the crowd never wants to hear us perform again.”

“Agreed,” everyone said. They turned when the bar manager came in.

“You guys alright?” he asked. “I was surprised at that reaction. When you told me that’s what you wanted to do tonight, I thought there might be a bit of unrest, but I didn’t imagine that anyone would be that upset.”

“Neither did we,” Elliott told him. “They’re not breaking anything, are they?”

“I’ve got the bouncers escorting anyone that looks angry outside the building,” the manager said. “I’m not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure you boys are okay.”

“We’re fine,” Kurt told him.

“Thanks for checking in,” Blaine added. “We appreciate it.”

“You boys think you’ll be performing again?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine said honestly. “I guess we’ll have to see how everyone takes the news over the next few days.”

The manager nodded. “Well, you’re always welcome back here. We love hearing the four of you sing.” He smiled at all of them then turned to leave. He called back, “You’re welcome to wait back here as long as you want. Probably best you don’t try to leave until some of the crazies are gone,” he added.

“Right,” Seb said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The boys stayed backstage for more than an hour, packing up all their equipment, and chatting with each other. Then, when it seemed that most of their audience had left the building, they made their way outside to their rented van. The bouncers volunteered to walk with them, but the boys brushed them off; they’d be fine for a few minutes.

Unfortunately, there was no way they could have been prepared for the small, angry mob that had been hiding in the shadows near the club. Seb and Kurt had gone out with the first load, and when Elliott and Blaine tried to follow them a few minutes later, the crowd convened, yelling about how the two of them should try going out with a real woman and grabbing at the boy’s clothes.

Alerted by all the yelling, Seb and Kurt came running back to the back entrance, fighting their way through the crowd to get to Elliott and Blaine who were stuck in the mess, their hands full of equipment.

“Back off!” Kurt yelled, shoving hands off of Blaine’s person. “Leave him alone! Go home!”

“Back the fuck off!” Seb yelled louder, lunging at the gathered crowd, his fists raised. “Get out of here! Leave Elliott the fuck alone! He’s mine!”

Realizing the boys meant business, the group broke up, running off in all directions.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, concern written all over his face as he checked Blaine’s body for any blood or bruises.

“I’m fine,” Blaine assured him, setting his stuff down so he could pull Kurt into a tight hug. “Just startled a little. Thanks for being my knight on a white horse.”

“Any time, my love,” Kurt told him, hugging him back fiercely.

Taking Elliott’s stuff from him, Seb quickly ushered him to the car which was parked underneath a streetlamp. When he could see him better, Seb dropped the stuff, wrapping his arms around Elliott’s middle. “I was so scared they were going to hurt you,” Seb breathed into his boyfriend’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“I was scared, too,” Elliott told him softly. “Thanks for coming back.”

“I’ll always come back for you,” Seb whispered, brushing a gentle kiss against his boyfriend’s neck before turning to finish loading the vehicle. He didn’t realize until he turned back around that Elliott was no longer behind him. Scanning the street, he saw Elliott a little further up the street, talking to a tiny group of gathered people.

Quick as a flash, Seb was racing toward him, ready to jump in and defend his boyfriend at a moment’s notice.

Noticing him coming, the tiny group took off quickly, not even bothering to say goodbye.

“Did any of these asshole’s mess with you?” Seb asked when he arrived at Elliot’s side, a bit out of breath.

“No,” Elliot chuckled. “You’ve marked your territory so hard, they’re afraid to say ‘hello.’ I had to go over to them to see what they wanted. They just wanted to say they were glad we were happy.”

“Who did?” Kurt asked, walking with Blaine toward them. “You guys okay?”

“Great,” Elliott called. “I was just thanking those couple of fans for being sweet and supporting us.”

“That was nice,” Blaine said, smiling a bit at Kurt. “You guys ready to head for home.”

“So ready,” Seb said. “After a night like this, I’m going to need a nice long break. Like, at least a full 24 hours.”

Everyone chuckled that, making their way back to their rented van, hands and arms wrapped around their respective partners.

***

“Even as a small-town group, you faced bullying,” Santana surmised, looking with a newfound respect at each of the men seated on her stage. “So, what did you do after that? Did you continue as Pamela Lansbury?”

“No,” Kurt answered. “That was Pamela’s last gig. We decided that we needed a break from the crazy, and most of the bars and clubs in the area didn’t want to host us for fear of riots.”

“So sad,” Santana sympathized. “How long were you out of the entertainment business?”

“Like, six years!” Seb said, glancing at Elliott. “We missed it, but we just didn’t feel safe going back. Not to mention, we were a little bit busy…”

“With what?” Santana pressed, looking at the four of them expectantly.

“Well, for one, we graduated high school,” Blaine supplied.

“And started at colleges here in New York.”

“Were you together all that time?” Santana asked.

“We were,” Elliott confirmed. “It was actually the joint wedding we hosted that got us back in the business and created One Three Hill as the group you know.”

“Really?” Santana asked, once more intrigued. “This has been the juiciest Music Town Hall I’ve ever hosted,” she joked, turning to look into the camera. “Tell us more about that!”

“Well…” Seb said, trailing off with a delighted grin on his face.

***

By the time the four boys got together again at the head table, having gone around to each of their reception tables to thank everyone for coming to their joint wedding, they were all feeling a little slap-happy, and they’d each had at least a few drinks apiece. Between the sappy feelings about their wedding, their delight at sharing yet another momentous event in each other’s lives, and the buzz and excitement that was palpable in the room, they were all feeling pretty loose, and their words flowed out easily.

“Man, this is the best day ever!” Blaine exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his husband’s and Seb’s shoulders. “Look at us, two best friends and two best friends getting married! That makes us four best friends!”

Kurt giggled. His new husband-- _ woah! That was weird to say _ \--was a goofball on his best days. Today, lightly tipsy and absolutely over the moon, he was downright hilarious.

“Man, I miss all four of us hanging out, being the center of attention,” Seb said. “I miss having other people ogle at my man’s body so it’s not so weird when I do it.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Elliott’s temple.

“How romantic,” Elliott grumped, a good-natured smile on his face. 

“I miss it, too,” Kurt agreed. “It was fun to hang out and play music together. It was a blast.”

“Maybe we should have a band again,” Blaine hedged.

“Yeah!” Seb bounced up and down a bit. “Yeah, we totally should! We could--we could call ourselves… um, One Three H- *hiccup* -ill!”

“One Three Hill?” Elliot asked, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“One plus three is four,” Seb answered, pointing at each of them in turn. “One lead singer plus three backups, and hell because--”

“You said ‘hill,’” Blaine interrupted him.

“Well, I meant hell, but hill sounds way cooler!” Seb answered.

“Please can we do it? Please, you guys?”

“I dunno…” Kurt answered hesitantly. He turned to look at his husband, about to express his hesitancy when he saw that shining light of hope in Blaine’s wide eyes. There was no way he could say no to that face. “We’re in,” he said, leaning over to kiss Blaine’s cheek. “We’ll do it.”

“Yes! Elliot?” Seb asked, turning to face his new husband. “Please, oh love of my life?”

“Well, I can’t very well let you be One Two Hill, now, can I?” Elliot grinned. “I’m in. Let’s do this!” 

“Yes!” They all cheered loudly, high-fiving one another and talking excitedly. It wasn’t long, though, until their excitement died down, and that look of lust and hunger for their new spouse returned to each man’s eyes.

“Um, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for some alone time with my sexy man,” Seb purred, rubbing up against Elliott and kissing unashamedly at the tender curve of his neck.

“You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to wait,” Elliott managed to murmur out.

“Then, let’s not,” Seb whispered huskily in his ear. “Come on.” Grabbing Elliott’s hand in his, he began to tug the other man toward the door. “Bye!” he waved over his shoulder at Kurt and Blaine. “We’ll call you after the honeymoon to talk about the band!” And then, they were gone, escaping quickly into the bathroom for a little teasing and groping before leaving in their getaway car for the hotel.

Kurt and Blaine stayed for a few more minutes, trying to ignore the fact that they’d much rather be going to their hotel than hanging around a party that, admittedly, seemed lame compared to what they could be doing.

“How long do we have to say?” Blaine whined, nuzzling into Kurt’s neck. “I really wanna go!”

“Then, let’s go,” Kurt told him, taking his hand and walking purposefully toward the door. “We can leave whenever we want, because this is our party.”

“I love when you get all decisive and dominant,” Blaine whispered. “It’s so hot…”

“And, I love it when you tell me that,” Kurt breathed into his ear. “Come on. I want to get you to a bed so I can get all those clothes off of you.”

Blaine shivered at the thought. “I’d like that very much,” he answered.

***

“Ah, the origin story of One Three Hill,” Santana chuckled into her mic. “I love it! So, that’s it then? The band formed and here you are?”

“Here we are,” Kurt agreed.

“Fascinating! Absolutely amazing,” Santana replied, glancing at her producer who was shaking his head. “Look at that. It appears we’re out of time. We didn’t have a chance to take any audience questions, but who could have any after that amazing story?” She chuckled, turning to look at each of the men in turn. “Kurt, Blaine, Elliott, Sebastian, thank you for coming onto Music Town Hall and sharing your amazing story with us. It’s been a pleasure to chat with the four of you, and I hope we get the opportunity to do it again soon.”

“The pleasure is ours, Ms. Lopez. Really.”

“Well, thank you once again,” she said, turning back to the camera. “Thank you also to everyone in our audience for joining us today, and thank you at home for tuning in. This is Santana Lopez saying, ‘Good night, New York, and have a musical night!’”

***

As the video faded out to the sounds of the audience clapping and cheering, Lizzie turned around, her eyes wide. She was just about to say something to Blaine when she noticed Kurt standing beside him. “Papa!” she hollered, jumping up off the couch and racing to wrap him in a tight, squeezy hug. “You’re home!”

“I am,” Kurt replied with a smile as his daughter hugged Blaine. “What were you doing in there?”

“Daddy showed me this really cool video to help me with my school assignment!” She stepped back, turning an accusing face toward her parents. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were famous?”

Blaine chuckled. “We weren’t really that famous, Liz,” he said. “We were known here in New York, but we didn’t get out much.”

“And, when we decided we wanted you, the band broke up again,” Kurt added.

“But why? You could have had me and traveled around, and I could be famous, too!” Lizzie argued, throwing up her hands. “That would have been so cool!”

“Ah, what could have been,” Kurt chuckled, walking into the kitchen and beginning to rifle through his recipe book for a specific card.

“And, why didn’t Uncle Seb or Uncle Elliott tell me ‘bout that?” she asked. “They’re always telling me cool stories from when they were kids!”

“Your Papa and I asked them not to,” Blaine answered. “We wanted to be the ones to tell you when you were old enough.”

“Well, it’s amazing, but I’m still mad at you!” she grumped, arms across her chest with a wide smile on her face.

“Okay, grumpy pants. Does that help with your assignment for school?” Blaine asked, reaching out to ruffle her hair before heading into the kitchen to see if he could help Kurt with meal preparations.

“Yes! I can’t wait to tell my teacher that my daddies were famous!” Lizzie exclaimed, rushing over to the table and pulling out her pencil and paper. “And, my uncles, too! Daddy, can we call them, Uncle Seb and Uncle Elliott? I wanna tell them how cool they were!”

“Maybe later,” Kurt replied. “Homework first.”

“Yes, sir!” Lizzie announced, saluting her parents before diving into her work, her pencil scribbling ferociously. 

Blaine sidled up to Kurt, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “What are you making?” he inquired.

“I was thinking we’d have that fettuccine recipe you like with shrimp--chicken for picky Miss Liz--garlic twists, and a strawberry salad.”

“Can I help?”

“Actually, that would be amazing,” Kurt replied. “Will you start some water for the noodles?”

Blaine did as his husband asked, smiling when Kurt sidled up to him a few moments later. “Thanks for showing Liz that video. She thinks we’re amazing rock stars now.”

“Well, we kinda were,” Blaine said. “Why did we ever quit that life?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’d trade the domestic life for life on the road with smelly old Seb and Elliott!”

“Never. I love being home as often as I am. The recording studio’s not a bad business. And, having time alone with you isn’t bad either.” He punctuated his sentences with a few soft, whisper-light kisses up Kurt’s neck and behind his ear.

“I could go for some time alone,” Kurt answered, turning to kiss Blaine’s lips.

“How unscheduled of you,” Blaine quipped. “But I’ll never say no to that.”

Kurt grinned. “I didn’t think so. Now, chop up some garlic while I get the butter melting for the sauce.” Glancing in the direction of their daughter to be sure that she was otherwise occupied, he let his hand slip down and ghost across Blaine’s ass for a moment.

Blaine couldn’t hold back his grin. “Yes, sir,” he said, saluting him just like their daughter had done.

Kurt grinned, turning his attention to the stove.  _ Like father, like daughter _ , he mused.  _ Thank goodness for those two. I love them, and I don’t know what I’d do without them. _

For his part, Blaine was thinking something similar.  _ I don’t know what I’d do without Kurt… And, damn, I can’t wait for sex! _


End file.
